Belarus goes Hunting
by Celestial-moon-fire
Summary: Whilst sniffing around Russia's couch, Belarus happens upon a hair that does not belong to her. Now she's standing outside France's doorstep, asking for advice.


It's exactly what you think it is.

* * *

A loud pounding on my door that morning was what started off the whole ordeal. I remember angrily trudging down the hall in my slippers and down the stairs, nearly tripping in my tired state. Then I remember opening the door, almost expecting England to be there, ready to yell about something. What took me completely by surprise, was finding someone I never associated with in even my most desperate-for-attention-of-any-sort moments.

My throat went dry and I swallowed before spluttering a greeting. She blinked at me, pushing past and shaking her long hair free of rain. I nearly raised my voice in protest as she wrung her hair, sending much of the remaining moisture all over my floor.

I realized my mouth was slightly open and promptly closed it, as well as the door before any more cold slipped in.

"Is there anything you came to see me for?" She nodded and crossed her arms with a shiver as her wet hair fell around her neck and shoulders.

"I want your advice." She said. "You are... the country of love, right?" I nodded, calming slightly. Advice I could do, and I was quite grateful what she wanted had nothing to do with something I may or may not have done to Russia. Which it can be assured, was nothing. Even I was smart enough to avoid Russia in a romantic sense.

"I would be happy to assist. However, you look cold. Shall we continue our conversation in the kitchen over a warm i_Chocolat Chaud/i_?" She stared for a moment. I rubbed the back of my neck nervously and waited for a reply. Eventually she nodded and I let out a breath of air I'd been holding.

"The kitchen is this way then, i_ma chérie/i_." I motioned down the hall which led to my kitchen. Her clicking footsteps made me slightly nervous again, aware I'd turned my back on a dangerous country. I almost expected a knife in the back, but at this point nothing had happened. We reached the kitchen with no mishaps.

"Just take a seat over by the island, and I'll set the coffee." She nodded again and clicked her way to a tall red chair, while myself went to the stove with a kettle of water. After the water was set I took a seat on the opposite side of the island, and my guest, on a similar red chair.

"So you say you wish my advise?" She confirmed it with a nod. "I assume... It involves Russia, somehow?" Again, I received her confirmation.

"It has come to my attention that he might not want to marry me." She looked down after she spoke. "It worries me that he may have someone else."

"I see, so, you're afraid he might want someone over you." I nodded. "I can understand that. But, what exactly do you want me to tell you?"

Head still down, she said "I want to know how to _'get rid of'_ this other person. I want them gone." I nearly slid out of my chair as, in the moments she'd spoken, the kettle whistled loudly.

"_Get rid of_? That's not really the kind of advice I'd be able to offer!" I swallowed thickly at her glare. Sliding of the chair I hurried to shut the kettle off while listening for a reply.

"If I cannot kill the offender what else is there to do? There are no other options."

"No, there are plenty of options. Homicide isn't one of them, fortunately." I sighed as I set to preparing the rest of the drink. Of course this late I wasn't fully trusting myself to all out make home-made, and dipped into the supply of instant I kept for chances like such.

"One, is to maybe ask about it. Russia might not even have someone else. Before you do anything rash, it's wiser to have full knowledge of the situation." Using an oven towel,I poured the hot water over the mix in the cups. For good measure, I dropped a marshmallow or two into each cup before taking them to the island.

She wrapped her hands around her cup and held the cup under her chin, allowing the steam to warm her. "I am sure he has someone now. If I think about it, it all makes perfect sense to me."

"Well... Find out who the person is, and maybe ask Russia what he likes about them." I sipped at my drink cautiously, aware of possible burning. "Or you could try to find out on your own. Tell me, do you know any details about this mysterious person?"

"I have found blonde hairs on his couch pillows. They do not belong to me." I twitched slightly, imaging what it must be like for Russia to have a person this devoted that they would go so far as to search a couch for stray hairs.

"Well, that narrows down all our candidates. To at least thirteen, if you don't count Sealand or myself." And with that, another hour was spent going through the suspects on the list. We ruled out the Nordics and the two Baltics with blonde hair, leaving us with only eight. Immediately after thinking of her, Liechtenstein was deemed too young by human appearance to pursue Russia, and was promptly crossed from the list. England was last to be marked off, considering certain relationships between him and myself.

As we further looked into the matter, I realized I'd managed to relax, despite my current company and what I knew would happen if I went in the wrong direction. Oddly it didn't faze me any more. I almost felt sad when I was no longer of any help to her, though at the same time relieved as she walked through the front door with a borrowed raincoat and a list of remaining suspects.

"I do hope you don't maim the poor unfortunate nation..." I yawned, heading at once back to my warm bed for the remainder of the night.


End file.
